Of Halloween Socks and Poor Timing
by QuietLittleVoices
Summary: No one knew he was wearing silly Halloween socks under his patent leather shoes. ((Modern AU, Merthur))


**A/N: **First work in this fandom! Please leave a review to tell me what you think.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

No one knew he was wearing silly Halloween socks under his patent leather shoes.

His sister, Morgana, had mailed them to him as a gift from her travels in America, attached to a note that said she'd been doing well. It was obvious she hadn't intended for him to actually wear the socks, but he had no other option that morning.

He rationalized to himself that it didn't matter; no one would see his socks, anyway. What he wasn't counting on was his secretary, Merlin, walking into his office unannounced and then dissolving into a fit of laughter. It wasn't that Merlin walking in unannounced was a strange occurrence, nor was Merlin laughing at him, for that matter – which was something he really should talk to him about one day, as it was poor form to laugh at one's employer.

Arthur scowled at the tall, gangly man. "What?" he asked harshly.

Merlin held up a hand, signalling for Arthur to wait while he finished laughing. "I just never thought I'd see you wearing socks with little Jack'o'Lanterns on them," he said with a grin.

"Back to work," Arthur told him gruffly, blushing furiously as he took his own advice.

"Of course, sire," Merlin countered cheekily, ducking out of the room. After a moment, though, he peeked his head back in. "For the record, I think they're cool."

* * *

"Are you dressing up for the staff party?" Merlin asked casually the next morning, leaning against Arthur's office door with his ankles and arms crossed.

"Don't you have work to do?" Arthur answered without preamble, not even looking up from his desk.

Merlin shrugged. "Nothing more important that asking you if you're dressing up. So?" When Arthur didn't answer, Merlin just continued on. "I'm going as Merlin, like the wizard," he said. "From the legends? Because it's my name? Get it?"

When Arthur looked up, expressionless, Merlin was wearing a big, goofy grin. "I get it," he answered, monotone.

"So you're not dressing up as anything, I take it?" Merlin asked. And if he looked disappointed, it was probably just Arthur's imagination.

"I'm not even going," he responded, looking at his desktop. He glanced back at Merlin before looking back at the spreadsheet he had open. "Now, seriously. I know I pay you for something."

Merlin bowed dramatically. "As you wish, my lord."

Arthur scowled at him as he left, but his expression had relaxed as Merlin returned. "I like the socks today, by the way. Candy corn is my favourite."

"That's it. We're switching you to decaf."

* * *

It was Monday after work and Arthur stood in the centre of a Halloween costume shop, confused. He hadn't dressed up in years, not seeing the point of the childish holiday. And he didn't know why he was letting _Merlin_, of all people, get to him like this.

"Do you need help, sir?" an employee of the shop, who was dressed as a vampire, asked.

Arthur looked at him, startled out of this thoughts. "Uh, yeah." He cleared his throat. "Yeah. Do you have any King Arthur-type costumes?"

* * *

"So, have you changed your mind about going to the party?" Merlin asked the next day.

Arthur shook his head, this time fighting a little to keep his face blank. "Nope. I'm just going to stay home."

"You're rather boring, you know that, right?" the secretary asked, walking up to Arthur's desk.

"Been told that, yeah," he confirmed, ignoring the fact that Merlin was now leaning forwards on his desk, palms down on the wood surface. Well, until he felt Merlin poke at his ankle with his toe. Arthur jerked his foot away, glaring up at Merlin. "What the _hell_, Merlin!?"

"Little ghosties," he replied with a grin, straightening up and walking out. "Cute."

* * *

"Fuck you and your novelty socks," Arthur grumbled into the phone that evening.

"What's wrong, dear brother?" Morgana drawled on the other end of the line, sounding relaxed.

Arthur scowled even though she couldn't see. "My damn secretary, Merlin – you've met him, right? Anyway. You sent me those socks, yeah? And I've been wearing them 'cause my fucking washer is broken, and everything else I've got has holes. And Merlin has the _audacity_ to _tease_ me about it!"

Morgana _hmm_'d along noncommittally. "Sounds like someone's besotted," she replied easily.

"What?!" Arthur said into the phone with much more force than was necessary. "I am _not_ besotted. He's the worst secretary in the history of the job, and he's always so _damn_ cheerful it just gets on my nerves – "

"I meant Merlin, but now I see the feeling's mutual," Morgana interrupted.

Arthur paused in his tired. "...Maybe a little," he muttered. "Not my fault he's bloody gorgeous."

"Are you going to do anything about it?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No, no. Of course not! He works for me; it would be inappropriate."

She shrugged. "You've done far worse than this. That can't be the _only_ reason."

"We wouldn't be a good fit."

"What about you and Sophia? Or you and Vivian? Neither of those were good fits, but you went for it anyway. Where's the fearless Arthur Pendragon that I grew up with?" she teased.

"Shut up," he muttered. "I will hang up on you, you do realize."

"Alright. Ask him out, will you?"

Arthur ignore her. "Be safe in America, dear sister," he said, and then hung up the phone.

* * *

"Scull and crossbones," Merlin remarked. "Much more manly. Though the purple does it in a bit."

"I didn't ask your opinion."

"But you know you wanted it," Merlin said in his usual cheerful manner.

Arthur just sighed and didn't answer.

But Merlin didn't leave. "You sure you're not going to the party tomorrow?" he asked.

"Yes I am, Merlin," he answered evenly, lying through his teeth.

If he saw Merlin's face fall a bit, well, that was probably just because it's what he wanted to see. "Well, alright then," he said, sounding slightly put out. "It'll be a good time, you know. You should come, even if you don't wanna dress up."

"I'm not going." He let himself sound a little apologetic as he said it, because he didn't like seeing Merlin so dejected.

Merlin shrugged. "Okay."

* * *

"Now, you're absolutely certain you're not coming tonight?" Merlin asked on the morning of the thirty-first. "You can still change your mind."

"I'm not going to change my mind, Merlin," Arthur said steadily.

"No one would think less of you, you know. It's a mark of a good leader, to mingle amongst his people."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I haven't taken over the company yet, and I have no plans to."

Merlin shrugged. "Still a good thing to keep in mind." He started to leave and then paused in the doorway. "I like the wizard caps, by the way." And then he was gone.

Arthur had been hoping he would.

* * *

He would be lying if he said he didn't feel ridiculous in the cab on the way to the restaurant where the staff was meeting. He had a plastic crown on his head, a fake sword through his belt, and a red cape around his shoulders.

When he got to the party, he was greeted by a few coworkers who'd already had a few drinks and were glad to see him, but he was looking for Merlin, whom he couldn't find anywhere. Eventually, he managed to find Leon, one of the other managers.

"Have you seen Merlin tonight?" he asked.

Leon shook his head. "Beginning, yeah. Think he went home, though."

Arthur cursed.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Arthur was standing in front of Merlin's apartment door questioning his own sanity. But he swallowed his pride and knocked, hearing Morgana's teasing voice in the back of his mind. Knowing it would become a reality if he didn't go through with this.

The door was answered by Merlin, wearing a pair of flannel pants and an old t-shirt. He looked at Arthur in shock as the other shifted awkwardly.

"I went to the party to look for you," Arthur said after a moment, looking anywhere but into blue eyes.

Merlin was still standing there, gaping like a fish, but after a moment he managed to regain his composure. "Are you dressed as King Arthur?" he asked stupidly.

"Well, you said you were going as Merlin, and I thought, maybe..." He let that trail off.

"I thought you weren't going," Merlin countered.

Arthur shrugged. "I wanted to surprise you. But then you weren't there."

"I went," Merlin protested. "I just didn't really feel up to socializing."

"Oh. Well, if you want me to go, I can," he offered, not really wanting to be turned away when he'd gone through with his plan.

Merlin shook his head vehemently. "No! No, stay." He stood to the side. "You can, uh... come in, if you want."

"Actually, there's something I'd like to do, first," Arthur said, talking a few steps into the apartment – and into Merlin's personal space.

But what he wasn't expecting was for Merlin to step forwards and meet him half way, pressing their mouths together.

"I wasn't about to let you do that first," Merlin murmured when they pulled apart, arms around each other and foreheads pressed gently together. "I've been wanting to do that since I saw your damn Jack'o'Lantern socks, and I knew there was more than the cold, manly exterior you put on."

"Hey!" Arthur protested, leaning back slightly to easier look Merlin in the eye. "I'm plenty manly!"

Merlin laughed. "Sure you are. Then I didn't see little lollies on your socks, did I?"

"No, you most certainly didn't." Arthur grinned and leaned in for another kiss. Maybe they fit better than he thought.


End file.
